


fuck you wanda maximoff

by god_pf_yaoi



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Anxiety Attacks, Borderline Personality Disorder, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, not wanda maximoff friendly
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-21
Updated: 2021-03-04
Packaged: 2021-03-14 06:00:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,202
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29290986
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/god_pf_yaoi/pseuds/god_pf_yaoi
Summary: I've been inspired by the scene in Ultron where Wanda forces her powers onto the avengers, where she shows them things that basically trap them in their minds. I've also read a whole lot of fanfics where Wanda forced her magic onto mostly Bucky and Peter, forcing them to relive through their terror. Bucky loses winter, so he sorta relives all that he did for HYDRA in some way, cause there's this theory that Winter was created to protect what was left of Bucky from the mind sweep. Peter relives all the shot in his life, like his parents and Uncle Ben's death, the paedophilia from a man pretending to be a college student/senior named Skip (He's from a comic made in the early era of Spiderman, as a way to warn child reader's about real world dangers, such as child molester's). I've thought about doing the rest of team Iron man, along with other character's like Stephen Strange, Bruce Banner (I might include Betty Ross, Bruce's original love interest because she is partially apart of the experiment that created the hulk), Peter Quill, Gamora, Nebula. Generally, this is a massive Whump!fic for all the marvel character's that deserved so better then what they got,
Comments: 8





	1. James 'Bucky' Buchanan Barnes - The Winter Soldier

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [The Voice Inside My Head](https://archiveofourown.org/works/12253551) by [Once_Upon_A_Ghost_Story](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Once_Upon_A_Ghost_Story/pseuds/Once_Upon_A_Ghost_Story). 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not gonna have Scott, Sam, or Clint be dicks in this, because if you think about it, they really only got one side of the story, where as Steve, Natasha, and in some way Wanda were the only people who had any actual grudge against Tony and the government.

James was never, ever, going to be the man Steve wanted him to be.

Aside from his physical features and accent, nothing about 'Bucky' remained. Seriously, why did Steve insist on calling him that? It was a five year old's nickname, and he carried it on through out the years. No matter how many times he told Steve that he preferred to be called James, not Bucky, he would always get the same answer.

_You just don't remember yet Buck, just give it some more time and you'll be back to normal soon!_

The thing was he did remember most things. He remembered things like where he lived, the people he met, and names of things, but he couldn't remember things like what it was like to hug his mother and younger sisters. Or how the treats Steve's mother Sarah used to make when neither Rogers had not managed to catch anything life threatening.

He could feel Winter's glare in the back of his mind as Steve congratulated Wanda on another 'successful mission', despite there being multiple casualties. After three years of staying in Wakanda, destroying more property on foreign soil in supposed 'missions', the world pleaded for the UN to allow the Rouge avenger's back onto American soil. Eventually, the UN complied and the Rouge's had been staying at the compound for six months now, still thinking that Tony Stark owed them an apology so that he could go back to being their doormat.

James and Winter had to admit, Stark looked so much better since the last they saw him in Siberia. His cheeks held more weight, his skin glowed healthily, and his hair even looked shiner! Maybe Stark had discovered the Fountain of Youth and adds it to his morning three cups of coffee. At first, he was concerned at how much caffeine the small man consumed, but then he managed to build a new left arm, that was covered in a removable synthetic skin that allowed him to feel things just like his right arm, all in the span of one day.

As soon as he had enough money from doing things like working down at the mechanics pallor, and volunteer at SWORD to train their field agents on how to actually shoot a gun like a fully fledged sniper, he and Winter bought Stark a large array of coffee, Tea bags of all sorts of flavour's, the odd flavoured syrups, including some handwritten recipes from his superiors and people from the old folks home, and he also managed to find some things that would remind Tony of his mother like her perfume (someone had found an unopened bottle of the stuff and gladly sold it to him for a reasonable price), and her favourite flowers.

It was safe to say that he had earned a place in Starks friend group. He wouldn't call them close friends like Colonel Rhodes or CEO Pepper Potts, but he felt good at his standing point with Stark. Maybe one day, he could call himself a friend like Sorcerer Supreme Strange and Dr Banner.

One day.

* * *

It was supposed to be a calm night. Something that Carol called simple, because apparently movie wasn't a thing anymore because of the Witch, like a series of trust exercises.

Yes, because that was something calm and simple. Trusting the team that tried to kill you with your back turned was calming.

The new avengers were perfect examples, not grumbling about their partners (even if it was someone they hated), and followed the rules.

And then there were the rouges.

Scott, Clint, and Sam all tried to participate in the games, albeit slightly hesitant. At least they tired to get along with their new team members. If they flinched or stumbled when they had to fall backwards into the arms of the person behind them, that was brushed off because everyone reacted in a similar way.

Steve, Natasha and Wanda however, were just plain nightmares. Steve insisted that his partner always had to be Tony, because they apparently had to work on their 'shared trauma' the most.

Natasha made everyone uneasy by only speaking to them in Russian. Peter didn't have the best of experiences with Russian, so he stayed of to the side lines with Bruce and James, waiting until they moved on with the next exercise, or it was his go. 

Wanda constantly used her powers. Even under strict instructions not to use them, when Peter had to fall into her arms, she had small tendrils of red cover his torso and thighs, wrapping him in a blanket of red.

Naturally, Peter freaked out because, 1. he hated tight spaces, and 2. this wasn't supposed to happen. James tried to calm Peter down as Stephen, Loki and Carol tried to reign in Wanda. 

Steve and Natasha were yelling at Tony to call of the resident magic users, saying that Wanda was just a child and that she couldn't fully control her powers yet. By now, James had managed to get peter calm enough to send him Bruce's way, who lead him away, Clint, Sam and Scott following so that they could help.

He could feel Winter struggling to stay calm, itching to get out and slap that HYDRA bitch. James gladly allowed him to take control.

When Winter was in control, he immediately marched right at Wanda, who was standing off to the side with a large grin (By this point he had removed the synthetic skin because he didn't want the witch to ruin Tony's work). Tony seemed to have noticed him in the corner of his eye, because he yelled out, "Barnes, what are you doing?"

Before Wanda could even blink in Stark's direction, Winter had grabbed Wanda by the neck and slammed her back first into the lyonium floor, creating a small crater.

Stephen and Tony tried to placate Winter by talking to him, calling him _Winter_ and standing there distance. Steve however, didn't seem to get the message.

"Bucky! This is your fault Tony! He was fine before you started to interfere!"

"Shut up Tupitsa! (dumbass)" Winter growled, loosening his fingers a tad unconsciously, giving Wanda the perfect opening.

Just as he was about to start yelling Wanda's grievances, Winter flinched, a bright red light pulsing around his body as he screamed. He yanked his arm away from her neck and he fell to his knee's, clawing at the area where the prosthetic was connected and he curled into himself on the floor.

Steve looked up to where Wanda was standing on shaking legs, blood dripping onto the floor from her hands, but she was still wiggling her fingers around and letting the red magic surround him. Tony, Loki and Carol were trying to get James to stop screaming, having to yell to ask what was wrong.

“Wanda! What are you doing?!” Steve shouted, Natasha trying to touch James, only for the screams only getting louder.

“Fixing this.”

Seconds later the magic disappeared and his body went limp on the floor, his eyes were wide open and tears dripped down his temples.

He was gone…

James looked around, everything felt slow and quiet without Winter telling him things or calculating everything he looked at. He sat up, his body was shaking and he looked over at Wanda, who was staring at him with a smile.

“What did you do?!” He said shakily, grabbing onto Loki's and forcing himself up, ignoring the way Steve tried to grab him. He glared briefly over at him and jerked out of Steve’s way.

“Don’t fucking touch me.” He turned back to the witch, who was staring at him with a look of worry, smile faltering.

“I thought you would be happy-”

“You were in my fucking head, witch! Why would I be happy about that!” He stepped towards her.

“I was helping you!”

“you'll help me by letting me cut your goddamn hands off!” He lunged forward, grabbing the gun he had hidden in his boot and body slammed her.

He heard Steve shout from behind him, Stephen having Loki guide Tony and Carol away through a portal, but he was too far gone to care. He let the metal fingers wrap around her throat once again, a silent voice in his head whispering

_Hydra, Hydra, Hydra_

On a repeat, memories of everything he didn’t remember before flooding into his mind. He could feel people’s life draining under his hands and the feeling of different guns going off in his grip and the pain of the memories being wiped and forcefully removed. He could remember _**everything**_. She made him remember everything!

He tightened his grip, the metal was wrapped in a red mist, but he refused to budge to a Hydra witch. He growled down at her, kneeing her in the side of the ribs hard enough to shatter her ribs.

She screamed, struggling heavily under him.

He felt Steve’s arms wrap around him and tug, trying to pull him up, but he planted his feet and bucked his head back, hearing a satisfying crunch and blood poured down into his hair and onto the back of his shirt.

“Bucky!” Steve shouted into his ear.

He stopped, throwing his elbow back and hitting Steve in the throat, knocking him back and he got up, stalking towards him.

“You let her! Onto this team!” He shouted, his eyes were almost black and he was shaking, whether it was with rage or because he still was physically weak from the experience, his mind just hadn’t caught up with it, he didn’t know. 

“She’s a good person,”

“SHE’S HYDRA!” James growled, kicking the knife handle next to him hard enough it flipped up and he grabbed it by the blade with his metal hand and threw it backward at her. It stuck into the floor next to her head and she let out a broken sob.

“She was a child! She’s the same as you!”

“She is nothing like me! I didn’t volunteer to be experimented on because I was petty against a man behind a company! I was a POW, she was HYDRA!”

Steve shook his head.

“She was a child, she was just trying to protect herself!”

"She took away the only thing that stopped me from remembering HYDRA! I never wanted to remember any of it! Do you think I wanna live with the memories of where I killed too many people to count! I don't want to remember any of it!"

Wanda had long since stopped breathing, despite Natasha cooing at her to stay alive. Stephen and Loki glanced at each other worryingly as James aimed the gun at Steve.

"James, think about what you're doing-" Loki tried to step forward, but froze as James' head snapped in his direction.

"I know what I'm doing! And boy, have I been thinking about this for a long time."

James sent Steve one last glare, before pulling the trigger, a bullet straight to the heart.

* * *

**So, this doesn't really corelate to the story, but I feel like Bucky could've passed as a Bi male who went out with a lot of dames so that he wouldn't be sent to a mental asylum for liking men. I mean, if your living in a time or society where liking the same gender just a bit more then you should would result in being sent to an asylum and injected with with hormones of the opposite sex, then bringing home lots of females/males seems to be the only plausible way out of it.**

James' expression was one carved of stone. If he could, he would have leaped up from his seat in front of the TV, stormed out of the room and forgotten that this day had ever happened. Instead, his eyes were glued to the screen. He waited for one of his teammates to crack and expose it as the prank that it was – because surely, it couldn't be anything but? The alternative was so much worse.

His thoughts strayed back to a time before the war. Of the young man who could charm the socks off of everyone, including older women, and took multiple dames home at night. After he fell of the train, Hydra injected him with the same serum that they used on Schmidt, with a few alterations, and made him into the super soldier. The serum had made him strong. It had cured every single of his diseases, had fixed everything that had been wrong with him.

Everything, except the one thing.

On the TV screen, the two men – rather, the two teenagers – finished their… their _confession_ , and were now kissing. Very explicitly, right there, in the middle of their living room. The others somehow managed to pretend like they didn't notice, undoubtedly waiting to gauge his reaction.

James had misjudged Stark's team. He had never expected them to be this cruel.

"Alright," he said, his voice pinched and hands clenched at his sides. "That's enough."

Natasha's eyes skimmed down the page of her magazine and only looked up after she'd finished. "What is?"

James scoffed. "Is this funny to you?"

That got the others' attention. Tony stopped tapping away on his tablet, and Clint shared a look with Natasha. "What are you talking about?"

"Look," James said, not quite gritting his teeth. He would have expected this from Clint and perhaps Tony 9based on Steve's words). But Natasha? He couldn't believe she was part of this. He hadn't thought she was the type of person to have a laugh on other people's expense. "I don't know what you think you know about me, but you're wrong. I'm not sick."

"Why would you be sick?" Natasha asked, her expression not revealing anything.

"Oh please! Why else would you parade," he hesitated, gesturing helplessly towards the TV when the words wouldn't come, " _that_ , in front of my eyes?"

Three pairs of eyes looked towards the TV screen. There was a beat of silence.

"You know," Tony said, "if you don't like the music, you could have just said so. Who put on _Glee_ in the first place?"

James felt the sudden urge to punch something. On the TV, the scene had changed to show some sort of musical number.

"Uh," Clint said. "Tony…"

"Oh, is it the language?" Tony asked. "I guess you're used to much tamer songs. Don't worry, old man. We'll let you pick next time."

"Tony. I think he meant the part before it."

"What part? I wasn't watching."

"Two guys kissing," Natasha said.

James didn't know why they were playing this game, but it was grating on his patience. Why couldn't they have just left him alone?

"Oh, you've gotta be kidding." Tony stared at him like he'd never seen him before. "You are, aren't you? Please tell me you're kidding."

James scowled. "I don't know why you're doing this, but–"

"No. Nope. I'm not dealing with this." Tony shot up from the couch and was halfway across the room before James could so much as blink.

"Stark–"

"You guys do it. You can give him the talk. I'll just," Tony gestured vaguely, "be elsewhere."

James' scowl turned into a frown. What was he playing at?

"Tony, come on," Clint said. He shifted uncomfortably where he sat. "It's not his fault…"

"It shouldn't be a surprise," Natasha said, and James didn't know what she _meant_. "We should have expected it." But they couldn't have. There was nothing suggesting that he was… There _couldn't_ be anything suggesting he was… that. There was no way.

It wasn't like James hadn't had the thought before. Everybody must have had certain impulses at one point, didn't they? They just ignored them because they were wrong. Acting on them would be wrong. James didn't – of course he wouldn't, he wasn't like that, he wasn't like _those_ people – so that meant he was fine. Right?

Besides, he'd loved all the he went to bed with well enough. He still loved them, in a fond way. There was no way he could have faked his attraction to them, he _knew_ that it was real. That meant he was normal. He liked women, and that was proof enough. Wasn't it?

"Well excuse me." Tony's face was scrunched up in a glare, although he wasn't looking at James. In fact, it seemed like he was taking great care to look anywhere _but_ him. "I guess decades of being Captain America's Best Friend being paraded around as one of the peak of human's accomplishment didn't exactly prepare me for this."

"You're wrong," James said, his voice hollow. An oddly numb feeling crept up in his chest, and he wished he'd just kept his mouth shut. "I'm not a– not– I'm not what you think."

"What, homophobic? Well excuse me if I misread your somewhat obvious reaction to a gay kiss on TV." Tony's sarcasm was a more biting, more sardonic tone than his usual cheerful snark. Then he stiffened, his eyes narrowing as if realizing something he hadn't before. "Oh, also. Being gay is a 'sickness' again, huh? Wow. Haven't heard that one in a while."

"He's from the 40s," Natasha said, quietly. She didn't sound angry like Tony, but she was still _wrong_. This was all going wrong. James didn't know when exactly he had lost track of the conversation.

Tony took a deep breath. His scowl didn't lessen even a bit. "Fine. Okay. Let's do this." He dropped back down on the couch, but didn't touch his tablet. "Things have changed like, woah. Being gay isn't a crime anymore, and the sooner you get used to that the better."

James' eyes widened and his heart missed a beat. What?

"I'm not gonna lie and tell you everything is rainbows and sunshine, but we're getting there. Being gay isn't something to be cured of." If possible, Tony's scowl deepened. "Do me a favour and don't take any interviews in the foreseeable future. JARVIS, cancel them if there's any planned. God, just imagine the mess this could have been–"

"Wait," James blurted out, stopping Tony in his tracks and blinking rapidly. This had far surpassed the point where he could have written it off as a prank. Even for Clint and Tony, this was going too far. But if it wasn't, that meant... "Hold on. I don't... Slow down."

Tony rolled his eyes. "Let me spell it out for you. Homosexuality is legal now. Being gay, it's not a crime. Not anymore."

"No. No, that's..." James frowned, trying to calm his thoughts. They were swirling around his head in a tornado of confusion, toppling over his world view like it was made of paper and leaving his mind in shambles.

What Tony described sounded... it sounded... But it couldn't be. James couldn't have possibly woken up in a world that was so fundamentally different than the one he had gone to sleep in.

His thoughts strayed to Billie, Steve's mother's next-door neighbour. Her _former_ neighbour, who had reported a break-in into his apartment and been arrested for "gross indecency" instead. Of Melvin, who had worked the same summer job as Steve, whose clothing had never been quite right, and whose "roommate" had raised eyebrows whenever he'd come up. He'd stopped showing up to work eventually. He thought of timid Ida, who had used to live in their building and whose pleas they had been forced to ignore when her parents had thrown her out into the streets.

"But it's wrong," Jmes insisted, because how could Tony look him in the eyes and claim that all of that had meant nothing? That all of that had been pointless? "It's… It's unnatural." Unnatural to look at other guys just a little too long. Unnatural to think that maybe, possibly, if society wasn't the way it was, if nobody knew, if nobody would ever find out…

It was the wrong thing to say. Tony's lips twisted like he was chewing on something bitter. "Listen up, Barnes."

James couldn't help it: he flinched. When was the last time someone had called him 'Barnes'?

"You're from a different time. I get that. But you live here now, so you'll have to learn about the things that have changed. Being from the past, it's," Tony paused, fidgeting restlessly with his hands. "I guess it's not exactly fair. But you've gotta deal with it. If the public got wind of it..."

Tony trailed off, muttering something about the "fucking Fox News" under his breath.

"Let's not go there," Clint muttered, and James wanted to ask – there were so many questions just waiting to be spoken out loud – but his mouth was too dry. He had no choice but to listen mutely as Tony went on.

"Anyway, one thing you should know about me: I swing both ways." James opened his mouth at that, but Tony talked over him before he could utter a single word. "It means I'm into guys, too. Sometimes. Honestly, how could you not have heard about that before? The media loves tearing themselves apart over it."

"I– I thought they said that to drag your name through the mud."

Tony's lip quirked upwards. It was too bitter to be called a smile. "You're not wrong. They've been doing it for decades. You'd think they'd have gotten tired of it by now." Tony made a hand gesture like swatting away the topic. "Anyway. The media being dicks about my sexuality doesn't make it any less true. And it definitely doesn't make it wrong."

There was something prickling behind James' eyes. He bit the inside of his cheek to push down the feeling. He wouldn't get overwhelmed by this. He was fine. Everything was fine.

Tony was still talking. "–and god forbid anybody's _children_ saw. Do you wanna take a guess how many angry letters SI got after I became a superhero on live television? I've still got some of them framed, gotta admire the creativity of–" He cut himself off, and his face went carefully blank. "Banres. You alright there?"

James' eyes burned with pent up emotions he refused to acknowledge. There was only so much he could do to hold on. "I'm fine." The words felt as hollow as the feeling inside of his chest. A fire burned beside it, the two conflicting sensations battling intensely enough to make him feel nauseous.

"You're pale," Natasha pointed out. "And your eyes are glossy."

"They're not– I'm not–" James sucked in a stuttering breath of air. Words fell apart in his head before he could form them to sentences.

"... Are you crying?"

Tony's voice was small and hesitant and James hated it. He didn't know what to think. He didn't know what to say. Questions burned on his tongue, battling to be spoken first and burying each other in a mess of words and confusion until James' mouth opened and closed mutely.

When a sentences slipped over his lips at last, it turned out to be no question at all. "It's not a sickness," he said, and couldn't bring himself to care when his voice cracked.

"Oh shit," Clint muttered, but said nothing more as Natasha shushed him with a hand on his arm.

"... Yeah," Tony said. "It's not." His expression was guarded, but his voice had lost some of the hostility it had held before. His frown looked thoughtful and close enough to suspicion that James had to squash down the urge to bolt from the room.

There were questions he needed to ask. He needed to know.

"It's not a sickness," he repeated, and gave up on trying to pretend that it wasn't for his own sake. "I'm not– I'm not _sick_." He almost choked on the last word, and just like that he'd left them no more room for interpretation.

James watched as Tony's eyes widened, his suspicion blooming into realization. James forgot to look away. The thought to flee and to leave the confrontation behind did not even cross his mind. He needed to _know._

"I," Tony started, his typical eloquence giving way to undignified stuttering. "What do you– I– No! No, of course not, I mean," he broke off, visibly steeling himself as he took a deep breath.

"James," he said, once he'd managed to collect himself. The use of his first name had no right to be this comforting, but it _was._ "Being gay, or bi, or whatever you want to call it, it doesn't make you sick."

James didn't know what to say to that. Even if he did, he was fairly sure that the lump in his throat would put a stop to it.

"Tony's right," Natasha said, that and nothing more.

Next to her, Clint had his brows set in a stubborn line that looked like he was preparing to start arguing with James, should he try to disagree. It was enough to startle a laugh out of him, although it came out shaky and weak.

James latched onto one of the words Tony had used. _Bi_. What had he called it? _Swinging both ways._ Did that mean that in the 21st century there was more than one option? (Technically there had always been two, but only one was the right one. Only one was the acceptable one.) Did this mean that James didn't have to choose? Did this mean that his feelings for the dames he took in at night were real, but so was everything else? had Steve been wrong in his ramblings about the 21st century?

Only months prior (decades, from everybody else's perspective) James wouldn't have dared to even breach the topic. It wasn't something people talked about. It wasn't something people were _supposed_ to talk about. Because if they did, if they brought up the possibility, the smallest suspicion that they were different, that they were _queer…_

But Tony hadn't just breached the topic. He'd gone out of his way to declare himself what James had taken great care not to think about too closely. Tony liked guys. There. Was it that simple? It had sounded simple when Tony had said it, like it was something normal to feel, like it was something to be comfortable with. So if Tony was comfortable with who he was, did that mean that James could, too?

"Look," Tony said, interrupting James' heated thoughts. "I'm sorry for being a dick earlier. There's some things that make me really defensive, and this… Well, this is one of them. I didn't realize– I mean, I didn't know…" He trailed off and they fell into silence.

James wanted to tell him that it was fine, that Tony couldn't have known. He wanted to tell him that it was all James, nothing of this was their fault. Why couldn't he bring himself to say anything? He just needed to open his mouth and _talk._

"In any case," Tony said, because unlike James he wasn't an idiot who couldn't get words out of his mouth. "I can't imagine how weird this must be for you."

They fell into silence. It felt somewhat uncomfortable, but not awkward – although perhaps James was too distracted by the thoughts swirling through his head to notice. He couldn't get a hold on them, each thought being chased by five others and slipping through his grasp before he could examine it closer.

Tony had never been one to stay silent for long. "Okay, help me out here. Do you… need something? Do you need me to keep talking? To leave you alone? I don't know, give you a pep talk or something? Give me something to work with here, because I got nothing."

"If it was a sickness," James heard himself say, "the serum would have cured it. Right?" He immediately wanted to take the question back. How childish, blatantly asking for reassurance like this.

"I mean. Yeah?" James felt his anxiety spiking at the question in Tony's voice. Before he could do more than furrow his brows, Tony went on. "I guess so. Look, people keep saying that the serum was created to make the perfect human being, whatever that means. So if it snuffed out your messed up mumbo jumbo, like a crooked jaw or messed up tooth, but kept this?" Tony shrugged somewhat awkwardly. "Sounds to me like you're meant to keep it. Nothing left to fix."

James let out a shaky breath. Tony made it sound so logical. So easy. Like it wasn't something that James had spent most of his life being afraid off, like it wasn't something he'd tried to hide, even from himself.

Some distant, brash part of him felt robbed. It wasn't fair to listen to Tony, comfortable in his own skin and with the words to describe himself, and feel ignorant and old-fashioned in return, terrified of examining his own feelings closer for fear of having to confront them.

When he looked up, he had no idea what Tony, Natasha and Clint had talked about the past few minutes. It was his name that eventually snapped him out of his daze.

"James? Hey James, you okay?"

"Tell me more," he burst out, the only words that felt right to say. "What else has changed? When exactly? And how?"

Tony hesitated. Steve didn't blame him, seeing how he had reacted to everything else so far. "Please. I want to know how the future has changed."

Tony caved and sank back into the couch. "Sure," he said, failing to sound casual. "Fair warning though, we might be here a while. Actually, give me a bit. I might need a power point."

He made it sound like a warning, like he wanted to give James the chance to back out before he was overwhelmed. "I'll wait," he said, and for the first time, excitement threatened to overshadow the vortex of negative emotions in his chest. "You have to tell me everything."


	2. Comments

I don't really care if you're Team Cap or Team Ironman, but please don't rage in the comments about how Wanda was a victim.

While the experimentation she endured to get her powers, remember, she willingly joined HYDRA, so she should've accepted or explored the possible idea that it wasn't going to be a smooth or comfortable journey.

This isn't a Wanda Maximoff friendly fanfic. It says in the very few tags, that it not gonna be a happy wanda fic.

I myself a team ironman, and never really liked Wanda to begin with. If you like her, that's fine, but please don't rant in the comments. 

I try to answer all the comments of my fanfics on all the websites I use, even if it's to explain why I've written something in a way people may not like.

This isn't just a fanfic for you to say that Wanda wasn't portrayed how you liked. Write your own Happy Wanda Maximoff fanfic if you don't want to read a non happy one.

This is what I imagine what would happen, so yes, I will have the character's act in a non canonical way, and if I happen to put your favourite character through pain, don't tell me in the comments, just stop reading the fic and move on.


End file.
